


Drown Out Your Mind

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Follow-Up [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And if it stars Shiro I'll probably do it tbh, Because I got genuinely half a dozen people asking for a sequel, Clearly a niche needed filling, Continuation, Gen, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Sick Character, Sick Shiro, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Continuation from Chapter 4 of Like Forgetting The Words.Shiro is sick.  Very, very sick.  The team tries to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all asked for it. Here's nearly 7k of gratuitous H/c porn.

“-et him out, now!”

Hm?

“...made him worse! What did you do t-”

Where was he?

Something in front of him moved, pulling away, and warm air rushed in. It didn’t slow Shiro’s shaking though, or the way his teeth were chattering. The light outside was painfully bright, and he closed his eyes against it. Stumbling ahead, Shiro tried to walk, but his legs buckled, and he pitched forward.

Into someone’s arms. Someone broad and warm and holding him gently. Cracking his eyes open, Shiro tilted his head up, and tried to swallow against the way the world spun and his stomach rebelled.

Yellow. That was okay. It was good, even. Letting his head fall back down, Shiro rested his forehead on Yellow’s shoulder as he took slow, deep breaths, trying to get his body back under control.

“We’re not sure why,” someone said, voice gentle. “The healing pod shouldn’t have accelerated his illness like this. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Someone snorted. “Well, that’s very comforting.” Green. They must all be nearby. Good. Having them close felt right. Shiro could protect them, and he could look out for them. That, and Shiro just felt better for having them nearby, especially how Yellow was still holding him up, one hand gently cupping his back to keep his balance.

“He’ll just have to get through it the old fashioned way. We’ll get him in bed and let him sleep it off, I believe. Try to get some fluids in him.” There was a pause. “We should get him onto a stretcher. We can’t risk any of the rest of you getting sick as well.”

“What’s the difference?” Red- Keith asked. “Shiro’s already down for who knows how long. Yeah, it’d suck, but we can’t form Voltron anyway. We’re going to have to hide and wait it out.”

The arm on his back tightened and Yellow tensed. Was something wrong? “I’m not letting him go until he wants me to,” he told them, voice steely. He sounded upset. Reaching up made Shiro’s aching muscles protest, but he patted Yellow’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort. No, it was okay, he was here. That earned him a quiet murmur, more of a shush than any communication, but he wasn’t calm so Shiro didn’t stop.

“Sounds like that’s settled,” Blue said, voice chipper and edged. “We’ll just have to take care of him. You guys worry about keeping us safe and away from the Galra until this passes. Deal?”

There was a heaving sigh. “This is irresponsible.” That was... that was Pale-hair. Shiro remembered that from earlier. Maybe? He wasn’t sure. It all felt like a strange, painful dream. “I suppose you’re exposed already.”

And apparently that was permission enough. Yellow relaxed, losing some of his defensive posture, and Shiro went back to resting calmly against his shoulder, even as his legs started to shake from the effort of remaining upright. Well, good. Things were okay as long as they were safe and happy.

“Can you carry him, Hunk?” Blue asked. “I think you’re the only one of us who can lift him. Besides, he’s looking surprisingly comfy, there.”

Rather than answer directly, Yellow shifted and put an arm behind Shiro’s knees, then tugged him up into his arms.

And the world _spun_.

Shiro grabbed on, desperate to avoid tipping over and falling up, still shivering. “Hey, sorry,” Yellow soothed, holding on tighter. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think you could walk.”

Probably not. Nodding in slow, sleepy agreement, Shiro sighed. He was so tired. All of him just ached, and he felt like he’d closed his eyes going into the pod and been woken up before he got any actual rest. And he felt much, much worse. Before, it had just been nausea and confusion. Now, he burned and ached and hurt in a way that made his bones feel bruised.

As Yellow started to walk, Shiro let out a quiet groan, then bit his bottom lip. No, he didn’t want them to know how badly he felt. It was his job to protect them. And that included from worry. He was fine. Shiro was fine. He was sick and he couldn’t remember anything, but he was _fine_.

A hand brushed over his forehead, pressing down gently. Shiro cracked his eyes back open and blinked blearily. Watching the world move from in Yellow’s arms made everything worst, but he wanted to see what was happening.

It was Green, the back of her hand resting gently against Shiro’s forehead. “You’re getting cooked in there,” she informed him, matter-of-fact. But there was a soft curve to her mouth and a tilt to her head that said she was teasing.

Shiro just nodded in response, eyes falling closed again. Yes. Yes he was being cooked. Idly, he wondered how high his fever was.

Suddenly, he was being shifted again, lowered down against something soft. But he had to be turned to make it work, and the pivot of the world made his stomach rebel. He jerked, then groaned as that made the aches in his body come alive again, which only made the nausea worse. It was the worst kind of feedback loop, everything feeding back into itself until Shiro was gagging and swallowing convulsively.

“Shit,” Red muttered. He darted off, heavy boots pounding on the floor in a steady rhythm that made Shiro’s head pound in time to the noise. When he came back, he shoved something into Shiro’s lap, and it only took a moment for him to realize it was a metal container he vaguely thought was used as a trash can.

Good enough.

Shiro didn’t vomit, not really, but he coughed and swallowed uncomfortably, the threatening bile choking him. He kept his head bowed over the bucket just in case. A hand rubbed up and down his back, and he glanced back long enough to see Blue behind him. He started to hum, soft and aimless sounding, and Shiro doubted it was any particular song. Just noise.

It was comforting anyway.

Once Shiro was sure his stomach wasn’t going to fight him more, he settled back down on the couch and glanced around, trying to get oriented. The room was bright, from the normal lights above to the lines of blue on walls and consoles. But now that his eyes had adjusted, rather than being straight from the healing pod, that wasn’t such an issue.

“We should get some water for you,” Green mumbled, brow furrowed. “Eating is probably a bad idea, but he’s going to get dehydrated pretty quickly like this.”

“I got it,” Blue replied. He moved away and headed for the exit. Watching him go, Shiro made a low, rumbled noise of protest. No, they were all supposed to stay close. He didn’t want any of them where he couldn’t see them and keep them safe. Stay. 

Blue froze, eyes wide, and he glanced at the others. But a hand settled on Shiro’s forehead, blocking part of his view. When Shiro turned to look, Yellow gave him an oddly sad look. “He’ll be right back.”

It took a moment for that to process, and Shiro still frowned, but he nodded. “Okay.” 

Oh. Was that his voice? It occurred to him that he hadn’t spoken at all since waking up. His throat felt like he was swallowing sandpaper, and it made his voice a rough croak. Reaching up, Shiro idly rubbed over his neck, trying to soothe the feeling.

When his right hand touched the sensitive skin, he froze. Oh. Right. Metal hands. It felt clammy and cold, probably still holding onto the chill from the pod. He tried to hold it up to get a better look at it, but his whole arm started to shake and he had to drop it to his side again.

With a finally sigh, Blue slipped out, and Shiro glanced back up to watch him go, still uncomfortable. But he had a vague sense for him, still, so that was okay. He could probably find him if need be. It would just be hard in this state.

“Let’s find him some blankets,” Yellow murmured quietly. “You relax, Shiro, and try and get some rest. Okay?”

Blinking at him, Shiro shook his head. “Rest. Not sleepin’.”

Keith kneeled down next to the couch, frowning deeply. “You need to sleep. It’s good for when you’re sick.”

Glancing between them both, Green hopped up. “Here, I’ll go get the blankets. I’ll be back.” Shiro closed his eyes, frowning deeply at her departure as well, but this time he bit back his protest. They’d be back. Yellow said so, and Shiro trusted him. They would all come back to him, because otherwise Shiro would go get them.

“No,” he finally replied to Keith, trying to focus on him and having trouble doing it. He was shaking hard enough that his eyes were having trouble staying on target, and his eyelids didn’t want to stay open. “Don’t want to.”

Making a strangled noise, Keith smoothed his bangs out of his face, using his nails to lift where they stuck from sweat. “You have to. Why not?”

“Dreams,” Shiro replied, without opening his eyes. He leaned into the touch, enjoying the cool feeling of his fingers, compared to the uncomfortable feeling of his own cold, metal hand. He didn’t remember why, but he had a bone deep knowledge that dreaming was bad and he didn’t want to do it.

Keith snorted, but the noise was surprisingly gentle. “You look like you don’t have a choice about it.” Shiro cracked open one grumpy eye and frowned. “Hey, I’m just calling it as I see it. But okay, stay up. At least until we get some water in you, that’s probably best.”

Well, good, ‘cause Shiro was gunna do that anyway. Huffing, he closed his eyes again, only to snap them back open. Oh, Blue was coming back. Shiro was going to sit up to drink. He struggled up to his elbows, panting from the effort of it.

“Hey, there. You shouldn’t be- oh.” Yellow looked up as Blue came in, then frowned at Shiro. “Did you hear him coming?”

That was as good an answer as any, so Shiro just shrugged and gave a jerky nod. Sure, whatever. Yellow still looked dubious, but then Shiro’s arms were shaking and he was starting to slump back, so he couldn’t care about that. 

A hand caught him, and Shiro glanced back to see Keith settling in behind him. “See, this is what I was talking about.”

“Nuh-uh,” Shiro croaked. Blue snorted in amusement, no doubt at the childish wording.

Settling on the edge of the couch, he held up the water for Shiro to take. But when he reached for it, it was tugged back away. “Sorry, Shiro. One sec. Hold up your hands for me?” He did, and his hands shook, muscles aching with the effort of keeping them up. “Yeah, no, let me.”

Shiro crinkled his nose in distaste. He made another grab, but it was slow and clumsy, and Blue didn’t even have to move out of the way. “Fine.” He scowled and leaned back heavily against Keith, as trusting as he’d been with Yellow either.

For some reason, Keith tightened his grip and leaned in too, and when Shiro glanced back, he looked almost pleased. Huh. Well, good, even if Shiro didn’t know why.

“Okay, ready?” When Shiro focused again, Blue leaned forward and pressed the glass to his lips. It was uncomfortable, to have to anticipate and adapt to the flow of water when he wasn’t controlling it, but Blue kept it to little, gentle sips, and Shiro managed to get most of it in his mouth. After a few mouthfuls, he pulled his head away, and Blue sighed but took the cup back. Then he scooted closer, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe off the few rebellious drips. “Better than nothing.”

Keith huffed. “And time to sleep.”

Scowling, Shiro tried to pull up and away, but Blue in front of him and Keith’s arms around his waist stopped him before he could get more than an inch. “ _No_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith shot back, exactly as stubborn and annoyed.

“As entertaining as watching you two toddler fight would be, I don’t think this is working,” Yellow told Keith, voice dry. “He’s not going to do it because you told him to. He’s Shiro. You know how he gets.”

Keith grumbled against Shiro’s ear, and the vibrations of it made it itch. Eugh. “What, we should just let him stay up all day? That’ll help.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you catch more flies with honey?” Yellow asked.

“Why would I want to catch flies?”

That made Blue chuckle, even as Keith tensed in unhappy confusion. “Because,” Yellow told him. “It works for pilots, too. Switch with me, would you?”

With a sigh, Keith pulled back and used his hands to hold up Shiro as Yellow settled in instead. Then, instead of just holding him up, Yellow helped Shiro lie back, until his head was resting in his lap.

Frowning up at him, Shiro narrowed his eyes. “Still won’t.”

“You don’t have to,” Yellow told him comfortingly. Slowly, he started to pet through Shiro’s hair, pushing his bangs out of his face again. And it felt nice. The palm was so cool compared to the heat of his skin. “But it’s okay if you want to close your eyes and relax. I bet the lights are really bright in here to you, huh?”

Shiro let out a slow sigh, relaxing now that no one was going to try and make him sleep. “Yeah,” he admitted.

The petting didn’t slow at all. “Do you want us to turn them down? I bet it’d be cooler in here with them off.”

Oh, that was good thinking. Nodding slowly, Shiro hummed. “If you want.”

There were footsteps - Blue, he could tell, both from the feeling and from the lighter sound of them. Keith walked more heavily. Then the lights dimmed, and the hum of electricity went quieter, too. Shiro hadn’t even noticed it, but the lack made his headache feel much better. “Is that good?”

“Yeah,” Shiro repeated. “Thank you.” He shifted, so he was more on his side than flat on his back. In response, Yellow started to pet from the top of his head down his spine, each one slow and long. Soothing. Nice.

Gradually, Shiro started to relax the rest of the way, and his breathing evened out.

“Hunk’s a wizard,” Blue murmured, quiet but pleased.

Keith let out a slow sigh. “Yeah. You really are, man.” Even without opening his eyes, Shiro could tell the comment pleased Yellow. Hunk? Hunk sounded right. “I still don’t know what it has to do with flies.”

The last thing Shiro was conscious of was the vibrations of Hunk’s laughter.

***

Shiro dreamed. At at first, his dreams were filled with purple lights and hissed words, of shouts from a crowd baying for blood.

But then the purring of before cut through, reminding him that he was Safe.

Shiro still dreamt, but it was of stars and clouds, of cool metal under his palm and seeing through eyes that weren’t his own, of memories he didn’t have.

His dreams were good.

***

When Shiro woke next, it was because he was freezing.

He was shivering violently, already drenched in sweat. But when he tried to curl in on himself, pulling the blanket higher up, his whole body ached in a way that just pulled him further from sleep.

“-ust how much did you bring, anyway?” Blue asked, voice a whisper but still easily understood.

Honestly, Blue’s whisper was more like a rougher version of his normal volume. Even despite the pain and twists in his stomach, Shiro couldn’t help smiling. His paladins. They tried so hard, and they were so good.

“I didn’t know how long we were going to be here,” Green responded. “And I didn’t want to stress him out with multiple trips, if we can help it. So I brought everything I could think of.”

There was the sound of rummaging, and Shiro picked his head up to see Hunk digging through Green’s bag. She yanked it back with a scowl, but not before he snagged a what looked almost like a flash drive. “Ooh, Pidge, what’s this?”

Reaching over, Green- no, Pidge was right, and Blue was Lance, that was coming back - snatched it out of his hand. “Something I was working on. It goes with these.” She pulled out five gloves, each looking like they were for the right hand. “It’s something to pass the time.” With that, she stood up and moved to a control panel, slotting in the flash drive.

A friendly looking menu popped up, and when Pidge put on the gloves, she could scroll through it and select options.

The familiar gameboard of Monopoly popped up.

“Holy shit, Pidge,” Lance breathed. “You brought Monopoly off our planet? What has science _done_?”

Pidge shrugged. “Not exactly. First of all, I couldn’t remember most of the places on the board, so I replaced them with areas we’ve been in the universe. Secondly, Monopoly was never this fun to play.” She rolled her hand in a loose fist, shook it, then snapped her fingers out. On screen, a pair of dice appeared and rolled.

A memory surfaced, fond and hazy. “The power glove,” he muttered, wheezing out quiet laughter. “It’s so bad.”

All four of them jumped and whirled to stare at him. Shiro blinked back out, all of him covered by the bulk of the blankets, except for his eyes and his hair.

“You- Ah, hell, you picked that up from Matt, didn’t you?” Pidge groaned. 

Shiro shook his head. “No. Commander Holt. He was teasing Matt, though. About the big bulky gloves for or suits.”

That made Pidge smile, even if it was a bit misty. Shiro tried to smile back, but then he realized they couldn’t see it under the blankets. Well, he wasn’t coming out. It was too cold.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asked, leaning back on his hands and flopping his head backwards to look at Shiro upside down. 

Shiro stared at him, trying to calculate how to lie convincingly, because he felt worse, but he didn’t want to say that. The silence stretched out as his hazed mind failed to come up with the right words. Slowly, rather than answer, he ducked down further in the blankets.

There. Problem solved.

There was a sigh above him, and then a hand slipped into the blankets with him. It rested on his forehead, and then yanked back suddenly. “Jesus, Shiro.” Ah, Keith then. “He’s burning up even worse than before.”

“Shiro, buddy, if you’re up you should try and drink again.” That was Lance, and Shiro sighed and poked his head back out. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Would it? Shiro’s stomach churned at the idea of swallowing. But he sighed and squirmed his way out from under the blanket, just enough that he could stick his hand out for the glass.

But he reached with his right hand, and he paused, surprised anew at the metal. The knowledge just didn’t want to stick in his mind, slipping out only to be an uncomfortable jolt later.

It didn’t help that his arm was shaking so bad with shivers he was having trouble wrapping his fingers around the glass.

“Okay, no, hold up.” Pidge stepped closer, plucking up the glass easily. “Can you sit up?”

Keith started to get up, but Shiro shuffled and then shoved himself up with both hands, letting all his weight rest on his palms and keep him still, rather than stay up by core strength alone. That seemed to help, even if he certainly couldn’t hold a glass like this. So he stayed still as he could while Pidge helped, holding the cup for him, even if he grimaced the whole time.

Shiro was supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. This was wrong. But there was nothing he could do about it, because the alternative was to worry them more.

About halfway through, Shiro’s stomach protested, and he pulled back with a groan. Sighing, Pidge nodded and set the glass down. “You need the bucket again?”

Maybe? Shiro took a few deep breaths, swallowing convulsively. Then he shook his head. No. He was good for now. Arms giving out, Shiro thumped back down onto the couch, curling in on himself. Why was it so cold in here?

Hunk swallowed as he watched, eyes big and sad. “You need anything? Can we help?”

No, they were already doing so much. Shiro closed his eyes and shook his head hard, hoping they would leave it alone.

“Shiro,” Keith snapped, stern enough that Shiro’s eyes flew open to stare at him. “No lying. Not when you’re this sick. Don’t you dare.”

The tone was upset enough that Shiro flinched. “Sorry,” he murmured, curling tighter on himself. Then he ducked his head further. “Cold,” he admitted, barely audible, even to himself.

Hunk glanced at Keith like he wasn’t sure of his methods, but then moved over to tuck the blankets around Shiro again. “We’ve got a few more if you need it, don’t worry. Let me know if you’re still cold, okay?” He nodded to Lance, who disappeared behind the couch, then leaned over it to drape another blanket over the two already over Shiro.

Distantly, Shiro recognized that the blankets weren’t going to help much, because the chill was internal. But the weight of them, pressing down solidly, made him feel better anyway. With a sigh, he relaxed further, eyes falling shut.

“I’d ask if you want to play, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Pidge told him quietly, sounding fond.

Shiro gave a tiny, tired nod. “Mmm. I’ll moderate.”

That made Lance chuckle. “Good, we’re gunna need it. Strap in, everyone, it’s time to ruin our friendships.”

Shiro chuckled quietly as he settled down again, and the heavy weights dragged him into a drowse.

***

“Should he be getting better by now? Even a little? It seems like everything makes him worse.”

“Well, I mean, sometimes bad bugs take a few days. It does bug me that he didn’t wake up when Coran was examining him.”

“At least he’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping or unconscious?”

Silence for a few moments. Someone’s hand rested on Shiro’s blankets, heavy and comforting. “I- You know, at first I thought it was nice, getting to take care of him. But it’s weird, too. He’s so... fragile.”

Another beat of silence, then a sigh. “Yeah. This is starting to get scary.” Then, continuing, smaller, anxious. “What if he doesn’t get better?”

“He will. What’s the point of all this technology we’ve been working with and all our testing if the flu can...” Trailing off, refusing to finish the sentence.

Silence again, then someone swallowed. “Hey, he’ll be fine. I have faith in him.”

“Shiro’s strong. He’ll be okay. We just have to wait it out. However long it takes. The flu is like... a week, sometimes, right?”

“It’s not the flu. The pod would fix the flu. And he’s not coughing or anything.”

“I don’t think you have to cough for the flu? My sister had it bad once and she didn’t cough the whole time.”

“Doesn’t explain the pods.”

“Can you be positive for one damn minute?”

Two pairs of shushing voices, quieting the two that had started to get louder.

Dimly, as if from very far away, Shiro realized they were talking about him, and he should reassure them. Nothing bad was going to happen, because they were safe. That was what mattered, and he needed to tell them that.

But the heavy darkness refused to part, so he resolved to tell them later.

***

Jolting awake, Shiro stared around, eyes wide. He hadn’t dreamed, at least that he remembered, but there was something wrong. He could feel it. Something was here and it was bad and he needed to stop it.

“Shiro?”

Glancing over, Shiro saw Lance watching him, putting aside a pad. The lights were still dimmed down, but even farther than before, and judging from how they were all folded into chairs or lying in blankets on the floor, it must have been later in the evening, near bedtime.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention, and Shiro turned suddenly, trying to see it. The movement made him groan, both from pain and nausea, but he kept himself upright, unwilling to miss whatever was happening.

There was nothing there.

“Hey, you okay?” Lance kicked off the blankets. “Need something? You look shaken up.” By now, the others were looking over too, curious and concerned. 

Glancing back over, Shiro frowned. “I...” Another flicker, this time to the other side, and Shiro twisted, breathing picking up. “There’s... did you see...?”

Stepping over, Lance bent down to place a hand on his forehead. “Damn, you’re still-”

Then, Shiro saw it. 

Haggar.

She stood behind Lance, reaching out, hand bright with energy, going to grab him, going to take him and hurt him, and that wasn’t allowed, Shiro had to protect them, had to keep them _safe_.

With a growl, Shiro jerked forward, grabbing Lance around the waist and pulling him down. Then he twisted them both so Lance was shoved into the corner of the couch and Shiro could crouch over him, keeping himself firmly between him and Haggar. “No, nonono.” He curled up tighter, breathing coming in short, panting wheezes. “Everyone get down!” He ordered, as much as a bark as he could manage. They needed to listen, to be safe, he couldn’t protect them all and Lance was closest, they had to get away. “Run!”

“Kinda hard to do both,” Pidge murmured, sounding nothing but confused. “What’s going on?”

What were they doing? “Go!” He commanded, still bracing for impact. Under him, Lance stared, wide-eyed and terrified, which was the only sensible reaction of the bunch. “Get out of here!”

Silence. Shiro’s eyes closed in anticipation of pain, still forcing his shaky limbs to remain upright. Until a hand rested on his shoulder, too broad and heavy to be Haggar’s. He turned and saw Hunk there instead, expression strained but not scared. “Shiro. You have a high fever. There’s nothing here.”

No, they didn’t understand, that was what Haggar _did_. Shiro shook his head and shoved at Hunk’s chest, trying to get him to run already.

“Shiro, seriously, it’s just us,” Lance agreed, trying to sit up. Shiro shoved him back down impatiently, not moving an inch. “Shiro, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Shaking his head like a dog shaking off water, Shiro practically growled. “So?” The answer was met with silence, broken only by Shiro’s panting. “I’m ordering you to _go_.” He finally turned, hoping looking at them directly would get them to listen to him already, only to see Haggar standing behind Keith, wearing a look that always meant some new, more creative form of pain. “ _Keith_!”

The pure panic in his voice made Keith startle, eyes wide. But he didn’t move away, and Shiro tried to lunge forward to get him away. But Hunk caught him around the chest, pulling him back and holding on, despite Shiro’s struggles. An easier task than normal in his current state. “What?” Keith asked, spinning around, and totally oblivious to the fact that he was going to be hurt, he was going to go through it all, and Shiro was so helpless to stop it, but he’d promised, he’d promised they would never hurt that way, and-

Hands covered his eyes just as tears started to spill. He froze, pure animal instinct, until he recognized the voice speaking as Pidge. “Shiro, stop. What do you _hear_?”

He heard....

Silence.

Haggar was never silent. She was talking and laughing and taunting, or else surrounded by sparking, constant energy. Never, ever silent.

Slowly, his shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of him, so completely that soon Hunk was the only thing holding him up.

Pidge took her hands away, and when Shiro opened his still wet eyes, Haggar was still there, looming behind them all. He flinched, pulling away, and Hunk settled him back down, just as Lance climbed out of the way.

“What do you see?” Lance asked, though when Shiro looked at him he didn’t seem like he actually wanted to know the answer.

Sighing, Shiro leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he took deep breaths. It felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. And it wasn’t the sickness, he didn’t think - it was pure panic, familiar as the memories that dogged his heels, now that he remembered. “I see Haggar. She’s trying to take you all.”

Heavy silence fell at that. With a sigh, Keith kneeled in front of Shiro, interrupting his view of the floor. “We’re safe, I promise. The castle is safe.”

Shiro just stared back, feeling so, so tired. No, the castle wasn’t. That’d be proven. 

Nowhere in the universe was safe. The only safety was in looking out for each other.

But he trusted them, and they were showing him there was nothing there. So he slumped back against the couch, panting heavily.

“C’mon, let’s get you back under the covers. You really need sleep. And more water.” Pidge guided him down onto his back, and Lance dragged the blankets back up.

Patting his head, Lance glanced back down at the mound of him. “You want less blankets? More?”

Shiro kept his eyes firmly closed. “Good now. But thank you.” 

“No problem,” Keith replied, voice low and soothing. “Try and rest, okay?”

It had been a long time since he’d heard Keith that openly worried.

Shiro was very, very sick, wasn’t he?

And god, this was all so selfish, to make them all stay around him all day, to worry them and make them take care of him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, clenching his eyes shut against his fragile emotions. “You should go to bed.”

Keith squeezed his shoulder, not at all gentle. “Shut up. Don’t you fucking apologize for being sick.” Then he sighed. “Just get better. Whatever helps.”

Okay. Nodding, Shiro sighed. “Alright.”

“Good,” Hunk replied, patting his hair like before. “Good night, Shiro.”

That started the chorus of well wishes, and Shiro nodded through it, not trusting his voice.

Soon, it was quiet again, and Shiro wasn’t sure if it was because they were sleeping or just keeping it down for his benefit. He couldn’t tell, because every time he opened his eyes, he saw her again.

Shiro scrambled inside his head, trying desperately to figure out what to do. This couldn’t keep going. He needed to get better, and he needed to stop seeing things that weren’t real. And god, Shiro needed sleep.

So he searched for the feeling of safety that had kept him calm and centered before, when he’d first collapsed. And his mental fingers wrapped around the connection to Black, closer to the surface than he’d ever felt in his right mind.

It vibrated like a purr under his touch, loud enough to Shiro could swear he felt it in his bones. Comfort settled over him like yet another blanket, this one warming in the ways the others couldn’t be.

When Shiro opened his eyes, he didn’t see Haggar anymore. Instead, the walls were gone, and Black laid in a curve around them all, her head by the top of the couch. When he gasped, the lion purred again, just as loud.

He was safe. Black would keep her paladin safe, no matter what, just as he did for the others.

Lips curled up, Shiro sent back his mental thanks, and got warm affection in return. And then he closed his eyes, breathing deepening into the first, proper sleep of the day.

***

Several rooms over, Coran started as his control panel changed, new data and windows popping up. “What?”

And then he realized what he was looking at. “Oh!”

***

“Shiro? C’mon, Shiro, you gotta wake up for this.” The hand on his shoulder shook him, and Shiro dragged himself awake. He was so clammy and hot and his eyes didn’t want to stay open at all. It felt like he’d been completely drained of energy. “Seriously, Shiro, you have to wake up. This is important.”

Finally. Shiro managed a groan, which was all the reply he was capable of. The voice - Lance, he thought - sighed and pulled back, apparently deciding it was good enough. Instead, he was replaced by another set of hands, gloved and strong. “Shiro, my boy, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath for me, when I tell you to. Can you do that?” He groaned again, still not opening his eyes. “That’s it. Ready?” Something pressed against his nose, cold and metallic. “Now.”

Shiro breathed in.

Then he screamed.

It was more of a gurgle, growing stronger as the sparking pinpricks in his face got brighter and hotter, as though he was dusted with lit coals. Despite his exhaustion, he arched and bucked, scrambling against the couch.

“The hell, Coran!” Keith snarled. 

There was a brief sound like a struggle. “Keith, no, it has to happen. It’ll just be a moment. We have to kill what’s hurting him.”

Slowly, the pain started to slow, and Shiro slumped back down, panting heavily. “What-?” It was like weights had been taken off of him, though, and he was able to at least open his eyes, and see Coran climb off the couch. “What the hell?”

“A nasty case of _Gohaulds_!” Coran diagnosed, with tired satisfaction in his voice. “They’re microbial parasites. They feed off quintessence. Perfectly natural, actually, to have some in your system, especially around the lions or high-quintessence locations, like the castle. But you had something of a build-up.”

Shuddering, Hunk curled in on himself. “You mean we all have the stuff that made him so sick?”

Allura nodded. “Yes, in very small concentration. The issue isn’t the _Goahulds_ themselves. It’s that there was an issue with them flowing naturally, and they built up.” She tapped the bridge of her nose, right where Shiro’s scar was. “There’s scar tissue and deviation in your cavities here. Because of that, there was a clog. And while that’s not unusually, it is a problem in that specific area. Usually, it tends to end up blocking a limb, and they go numb or become painful. This time, they were preventing quintessence from reaching his brain, and thus, the fever.” She sighed. “When he put him in the pod, it only accelerated the problem. Since it was how is body simply is now, it caused the build-up to get worse.” Looking down, Allura frowned, and Shiro could see the stress lines around her eyes. He wondered how she and Coran had been sleeping. Actually, how long had he been out of it. “With how far it had progressed? I have no idea how you’re still alive, Shiro.”

Oh. The words hung heavily in the air.

Actually, wait. Shiro knew why. “Black,” he breathed, slowly pushing himself up. He was still shaky and felt like crap, but he didn’t feel like he could barely breathe anymore. “Black was there, the whole time. Helping. The connection was so close.”

Coran’s brows rose. “The black lion was feeding you energy? That... that would do it. It’s a difficult thing to do, but in a life and death situation... yes, it makes sense. Explains a few things, actually.” He stroked his mustache, gaze distant. “Well, regardless, you need to stay down for the rest of the day. Your body was starved of critical energy for far too long.”

“But I’m not contagious,” Shiro confirmed, relaxing. He hadn’t made them all as sick as he’d been because he was scared and confused. Good.

Nodding, Allura gave his shoulder a squeeze. “It’s good to have you back with us. Now,” she gave a sly glance sideways. “I think you all could use a moment.”

Probably true. From the bits and pieces Shiro remembered, he’d given the others a damn good scare. He shot Allura a thankful smile, and got another squeeze in return.

The second Allura was out of the way, Pidge launched herself forward and squeezed him tightly. Shiro’s brows rose, surprised, but he wrapped his arms around her automatically. “Hey. Sorry.”

In response, she shoved at his chest, thankfully toward the back of the couch, otherwise he would have gone right back down. “Shut up. Don’t apologize for being sick. Just let me hug you.” Her face pressed into his chest. “You were so scared and we couldn’t help.”

“You did help,” Shiro pointed out. “You made sure I knew what was real. That was a big deal. It was all real to me.” He glanced over the top of Pidge’s head as Allura and Coran started to slip out. “Thank you guys.”

Coran flapped a hand. “No worries, Number one. You get better soon.” He paused. “Though I do think I’m going to sleep for a day or so.” Nodding to himself, he marched out, Allura snorting in mixed amusement and agreement.

While Pidge continued to clutch at him, he held out his other arm, brows up. “Any other takers?”

“Hell yes,” Lance replied, crashing to his knees and falling into the hug. “It’s really good to be able to do this without worrying we were gunna get sick too.” He paused. “Not that, you know, stopped us or anything, but it was a thought.”

“I’m not mad,” Shiro replied. “I kind of wish you’d told me to shut up and avoided me, actually. I wasn’t rational, and there was no reason for you- agh!” He jolted as Pidge dug her fingers into his side, grip suddenly punishing. “Ow, hey!”

Picking her head up, Pidge gave him a glare, eyes suspiciously red and teeth set in a snarl. “We were _not_ going to let you freak out and be scared just to avoid getting sick. Shut up.”

“Okay, sorry,” Shiro replied. “I won’t. But-” The fingers tightened again. “Nevermind.”

Chuckling, Hunk sat down near Shiro’s feet. “You did give us a scare, but it was better than letting you be scared all on your own.” Then his eyes darted away, though he managed to keep his tone mostly light. “And, I mean, if we hadn’t figured it out in time, I don’t think any of us would have wanted to have been avoiding you when you...”

Oh, boy. “Hey, I’m fine. I was wrong, do what you think is right. You guys have good instincts.” Shiro held up his free hand as much as he could, with Pidge still limpet-like on his front and Lance hanging onto the other arm. “Clearly I should be letting you make the calls.”

Lance let out a watery sounding chuckle. “I want that in writing.”

“Not a chance.”

Taking a deep breath, Lance got up. He took a couple of steps back, then gave Keith a gentle shove. At first, he got a scowl, but then Keith’s shoulders slumped forward and he settled in where Lance had left. While he didn’t hug the same way, he leaned into Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro wrapped an arm around him, loose to avoid making him feel trapped, but comforting. Hopefully.

He could only keep that up for a few minutes, though, and Shiro sighed. “Um, I hate to say this, but I’m really not up to full strength anymore, and I think I’m about to fall over. Fair warning.”

Pulling herself up, Pidge took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay, break time. Um, so, Monopoly again?”

Hunk’s brows rose. “I think the only reason we didn’t kill each other last time was because we didn’t want to wake Shiro. And it’s a four person game.”

“I’m recovering,” Shiro replied, tone dry. “You all play, I’ll mediate.”

Flopping down comfortably in front of the couch, Lance reached for one of the discarded gloves on the table. “Yeah, okay, sounds fun. This time, things are gunna be interesting.”

Shiro had a bad feeling he’d regret deciding on the ‘easy’ way out.

***

He was right.


End file.
